


A Bridge in Time

by xylaria



Category: Green Knowe Series - Lucy M. Boston
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylaria/pseuds/xylaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan and Linnet are linked by more than an old house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bridge in Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trialia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trialia/gifts).



> Many thanks to Nary for beta and AlterEgon and AlterEgon's friend for help accurately depicting Susan. All errors are mine.

"I don't see a bridge." 

Susan frowned, and Linnet knew she was retracing her steps in her head -- the feel of the ground under her feet, the smells and the sounds. 

"It's here," Susan insisted after a moment. "I know we came the right way and I can hear it." 

Linnet looked up and down the river. The bank was steep along this section, covered with grass gone brown in the summer heat. The water ran between the banks swift but smooth, the speed only hinted at by the sun glinting off slight ripples where underwater rocks disturbed the flow. There was no sign of the bridge Susan had said would lead to a tree even better than the old beech for climbing.

Next to her Susan tilted her head from side to side, evaluating the sound of the river, and then, before Linnet could reach out and stop her, stepped confidently up to the bank of the river and over the edge. Linnet's scream died on her lips as Susan stood in the middle of empty air over the river and looked expectantly towards Linnet.

"Are you coming?" Susan asked, a hint of impatience in her voice.

Linnet looked closely at the riverbank under Susan's floating feet. There, mostly covered by grass, was a tumble of stones that might once have been the pillars of a bridge, a bridge that had clearly been gone for a long, long time. 

"There isn't a bridge for me," Linnet finally said. "To me it looks like you are standing on thin air."

Susan considered this for a moment and to Linnet's great relief stepped back toward Linnet and onto the bank of the river. 

"Then you will have to close your eyes and use my bridge," Susan said, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. Linnet opened her mouth to protest.

"But..."

"Do you trust me?" Susan asked sincerely, holding out her hand. 

Linnet hesitated. She remembered summer days spent lying in the grass in the sun talking of anything and everything, whispered secrets in the night and pranks on the Nannies Softly. She looked at the span of open air above the river and reminded herself of Truepenny and deer and playing with children long dead. Reaching out she placed her hand securely in Susan's.

Susan moved Linnet’s hand up so it rested on her upper arm just above her elbow and began to move forward. Linnet shut her eyes tightly as they approached the edge and focused on Susan, banishing all thoughts of the steep bank and cold water from her mind. She imprinted on her brain the warm smoothness of Susan’s skin under her fingers and the slight ripple of her muscles as she walked. And then there was wood beneath her feet and the rush of water below her and in a dozen clattering strides the soft crunch of dry grass.

Linnet opened her eyes and looked back. For just a moment she thought she saw the ghost of a bridge with stout stone supports and wooden spans; then the river was once again flowing with no signs of human engineering marring its winding ribbon.

Susan's tug on her hand brought her attention away from the river, and Linnet let her hand slide down Susan’s arm so they walked hand in hand. Susan led Linnet unerringly across the field and around a small hill to a tree that seemed to be stretching its branches out to try and reach the forests visible in the distance on three sides instead of the more traditional reach to the sky. Susan slowed as they approached the tree, one hand stretched out to protect her face from any stray branches. 

“I found this one day when I got… turned around while walking along the river without Jacob. I thought maybe it could be our tree.” Susan said. Linnet smiled and squeezed Susan’s hand; Susan squeezed back.

Susan led them to the trunk, and then up until they came to a crook between two broad branches big enough for them both to sit comfortably, pressed together along one side. They sat there in silence for a while, listening to the wind gently rustling the leaves around them and the chaffinches flitting about among the branches. 

“I have to go back to school soon,” Linnet finally said, breaking the silence. “I won’t be back until the Christmas holidays.” 

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Susan said, a wry smile twisting her lips. 

“Do you have a knife?” Susan asked after another period of silence. “Jacob carved marks into the beech tree. And I think it would help me find places again, but no one will give me a knife.”

Linnet reached into her pocket and pulled out the small penknife her father had given her in her Christmas stocking a couple of years back. Carefully she carved L S into the trunk of the tree next to her. Grabbing Susan’s hand, she guided it to feel the carving, and then pressed the folded knife into Susan’s palm.

“There is a small indentation on the back of the blade that you use to open it with your fingernail,” Linnet explained as Susan’s sensitive fingers felt the knife over. “Then you just push on the back of the blade to close it. Be careful that your fingers aren’t in the way and that you always push it away from you when you use it.” Linnet repeated the safety instructions her father had given her as Susan carefully opened and closed the knife several times. “And don’t let your Nanny Softly or your mother or Sexton know you have it,” she added with a grin. 

Unfolding the knife again, Susan carefully placed the tip to the trunk next to her and began to carve, stopping frequently to feel the shape forming in the bark. She worked with quiet focus while Linnet watched in silence, wondering what she was carving. Finally Susan closed the knife and ran her fingers over the pattern she had created one last time. It was a neat spiral that Linnet expected felt like a seashell carved into the wood. Reaching around Susan, Linnet closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the design and grinned when it felt exactly as she had expected. 

The breeze gusted, making Linnet shiver. 

“It’s getting late; we should probably go back.” 

They climbed down quickly, Susan going first and Linnet following. When they reached the river again Linnet took Susan’s hand and closed her eyes, picturing the ghostly bridge she had seen after crossing before, but strong and whole. They stopped on the other side, both unwilling to part. 

“Come find me when you get back. Or let me find you?” Susan asked. In response Linnet pulled Susan close in a tight hug. They stood there for a moment until a shout from the house made Linnet pull back. Quickly, before she could lose her courage, she leaned forward and pressed her lips gently against Susan’s. 

“As soon as I return,” she said as she pulled away, and with a last squeeze of Susan’s hands she began walking towards the house. Just as she felt time untwisting around her, Linnet looked back. Susan stood in the middle of the path, the sun just starting to pass through her form as she faded in time, a smile lighting up her face.


End file.
